


Home Is Where the Heat Is

by Just_here_for_a_laugh



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Bruce is mentioned but he's not really there exactly, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is having trouble adjusting to Gotham, Damian Wayne likes to draw, Damian grew up in the middle east, Damian is Grumpy, Damian is standoffish, Damian is ten, Dick Grayson is a good bro, Fluff, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Gotham is cold guys, I probably screwed up the timeline, Jason Todd Has a Heart, Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Jason Todd is a little bit of a bastard but in a fun way, One Shot, Stephanie Brown is a good sister, Tiny amount of angst, Titus doesn't do much but he's a good dog, jason Todd is a good bro, stealing clothes, the others are confused, tim drake is a good bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_here_for_a_laugh/pseuds/Just_here_for_a_laugh
Summary: Damian is settling into the Manor relatively well, but there's one thing he can't get over: it's a lot colder than he's used to. A deadly assassin can't be brought down by something as trivial as a chill, he must do something about this, and severely confuse his siblings in the process
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Comments: 20
Kudos: 693





	Home Is Where the Heat Is

Gotham was far from the warmest place in the world. Between long nights of patrol and early winter mornings the entire Wayne family was chilled past the point of comfort on a rather routine basis, but the cold got to Damian even more. He had grown up in a warm climate where the winds were pleasant and the sun was relentless. His move to Gotham where the winds coming off the Jersey coast were anything but balmy and the very air was dark and gloomy had been an adjustment to say the least.

  
Initially he had pushed through it, telling himself that letting a little physical discomfort bother him was beneath an al Ghul. He was the heir to the League of Assassins, he was the son of Batman, he was one of the most fearsome warriors the world had ever seen, a little wind chill shouldn’t be able to stop him! So he bit his tongue and hunkered down. He was miserable, but he was determined not to let it show. He was however, still a ten year old boy, and ten year old boys do not have perfect control over their physical form no matter who had trained them.

  
The signs were subtle but Damian was still worried that his siblings or worse his father would notice his weakness. Miraculously though, his facade managed to hold in the face of the World’s Greatest Detective and all his observant protégés. The young Robin thought he was in the clear, but he hadn’t recognized the most dangerous and skilled threat in the family: Alfred. The Butler noticed the boy’s shivering and his tendency to curl his limbs inward in an attempt to conserve body heat, but he also saw his inward scowls as he froze and heard his huffs of impatience. Alfred knew better than to mention anything to the young bat and so he didn’t say a word; but if there was an extra blanket on Damian’s bed because “the linen closet is too full Master Damian, and I had to put this bulky throw somewhere,” that was just in the interest of efficient storage space. He was a butler after all.

  
Eventually, after he had begun to get more comfortable around his new family, and more comfortable with himself, Damian reasoned that being in any way physically impaired was counterproductive to his goals of efficiency and maximum effectiveness. Thus, it was only logical to remove such a hindrance. He would still not broadcast his discomfort for fear of judgement, but he did start to do something about it. It wasn’t long before the members of the batclan began to find Damian curled up around Titus in his free time or drawing in the kitchen as Alfred baked. This worked for a while but it tied him down to a single location. What he needed was a way to stay warm while remaining mobile, but he didn’t have the means. All of his clothes that were not for formal occasions (and some that were) he had brought with him from his childhood home. Bruce had of course offered to get him new ones but in his fear of revealing his weakness to cold Damian had flatly refused. Bruce dropped the issue, assuming that his son wanted to keep some ties to his old life. He wanted Damian’s transition into the Manor and Gotham to be as easy as possible so he agreed to Damian’s choice of wardrobe. It had been a reckless decision in hindsight, but Damian was stubborn and there was no way he was going to approach his father now and reverse his stance. So that left only one option.

  


  


  
It was Dick who found him first, drawing on the couch next to Titus. He was on his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat when he stopped and backed up a few steps to get a better look at his little brother.

  
“Hey Dames,” he said tentatively.

  
“Grayson.” Damian responded, not looking up.

  
“Whatcha doing?”

  
“I’m drawing, clearly.” He answered in his typical gruff manner. Dick could in fact see that, but that wasn’t what he was really asking about. Not sure whether Damian was not picking up on the implied question or if he was simply being obstinate, Dick took a more direct approach.

  
“Cool cool,” he started, trying to sound casual and not spook Damian. “Hey is that my sweatshirt?” Damian looked up with a nearly imperceptible flash of worry in his eye before he perfected his look of apathy.

  
“Yes, I found it in the laundry room when I was looking for something to replace my shirt which Drake spilled his idiotic energy drink on. Do you have a problem with my wearing it?”

  
“No! No, I just uh, wanted to make sure is all.” Dick quickly supplied, cringing slightly at his own feeble answer. Damian eyed him suspiciously and he decided to change the subject. “Hey! Do you want anything from the kitchen? I'm gonna go get a snack,’ he smiled brightly.

  
“Tt,” Damian remarked disapprovingly, “I doubt Pennyworth would be enthusiastic about you eating so close to dinner.” Dick laughed,

  
“What Alfred doesn’t know won't kill him,” he replied with a wink. Damian shook his head and tutted again, returning to his drawing.

  
“Suit yourself!” Dick called behind him as he continued on to the kitchen, but something about the encounter still seemed odd to him.

  


  


The next incident was with Tim. He couldn’t find his gloves anywhere and he was going to find Alfred to ask if he had any idea where they might be when he found them in the last place he expected to: in the library. On Damian. He stood there dumbfounded for a second just staring.

  
“Did you need something Drake?” Came the curt acknowledgement, snapping Tim out of his own head.

  
“Uh yeah actually, I was looking for those.” He answered, pointing to his gloves on Damnian’s hands. “Why do you have them?”

  
“They make turning the pages of this book easier. It’s very old and the onion skin pages require special handling.”

  
Tim had been in a fair share of nonoptimal reading situations and had spent many nights on the rooftops of Gotham with a case file or a book for school, and he knew that those gloves most certainly did not make turning pages easier, no matter what kind of paper a book had. However, he also knew that while Damian was a pest and at times even a danger, he was still part of the family and if he was lying about something so mundane as this, he probably had a reason. So Tim didn’t pry. “Okay,” he responded nonchalantly, “I’ll just go nick a pair from Jay’s room or something. Enjoy your book I guess.” Damian huffed an acknowledgement and continued reading as Tim slowly moved away from the door, watching his brother for as long as possible without seeming suspicious. Who was he kidding he thought, the kid thought everything he did was suspicious, but still.

  
He thought the incident was odd, but he also thought Damian was odd so he didn’t really think much of it. That is until he nearly had a heart attack when he tried to sneak up on Steph only to find his glowering little brother under the purple hood instead. This was officially beyond the normal realm of Damian weirdness, but he had no idea what could be the reason for it.

  


  


When Jason swung by the Manor one night to raid the kitchen, he wasn’t surprised to see that Damian was still awake well after he should be. He was however surprised to see him wearing what he was pretty sure was Dick’s old hoodie and a pair of fuzzy Wonder Woman socks he was pretty sure used to be his. He shrugged and continued in.

  
“Sup Demon Brat?”

  
“Todd.” Damian answered levely. He was eating cereal and Jason thought he might as well join him. He grabbed a bowl and the box of the cereal he knew Dick liked best and sat down with the kid. They ate in silence for a while before he casually asked,

  
“So, why the gettup?”

  
“Why the what?” Damian asked, eye roll evident in his tone.

  
“The outfit,” Jason said with his mouth full, “Why you wearing Dickiebird’s jacket?” He thought it best to leave the colorful socks out of it.

  
“What is my wardrobe any concern of yours, Todd?”

  
“It's not, just making conversation.” A few more minutes passed and Jason finished his bowl and put it in the dishwasher. He grabbed a couple of Alfred’s brownies, along with the ketchup just to screw with Bruce, and started to head out. “Keep it real, Baby Bird.” He said as he swung out the window and Damian nodded in response. Then Jason was off to go see what sort of trouble he could get up to before the sun came up and he went to bed.

  


  


After a few weeks Dick called an emergency family meeting, which meant his brothers and sister minus Damian. He didn’t want to alarm Bruce unless absolutely necessary and he wasn’t sure the big guns (a.k.a. Alfred) needed to be called in just yet. So, Dick, Stephanie, and Tim sat at the kitchen table while Jason lounged in the corner in his usual aloof manner that the others were sure he thought looked cool.

  
“Okay,” Dick started, “This is really weird.”

  
“Completely,” Steph agreed, “I caught him wearing my sweatpants three times this week. I don’t even know how he fit them.”

  
“Well you're not exactly a linebacker Steph, but yeah I see your point,” said Dick, “Almost none of this stuff actually fits him.”

  
“And he takes the weirdest things,” Tim chimed in, “Like, my gloves? What was that about? And it’s not like he’s stealing them, I found the jacket he took the other day on my bed when I turned in for the night.”

  
“Yeah and my Spoiler cape was hanging right where I left it in the Cave after Tim told me he’d been wearing it.”

  
Dick nodded, all of his sweatshirts and jackets were returned as well. Tim was right, that made this all much more confusing.

  
“He’s lying about it too.” Steph added, “He said he was wearing my sweats cause Alfred the cat tore the hem of his pants but I know for a fact that didn’t happen cause he was wearing those same pants today and there wasn’t any stitching on them.” Tim agreed with her and while Dick didn’t know of Damian lying to him he believed his siblings.

  
“Why is he doing it?” Dick asked, deep in thought,

  
“Is it some sort of weird show of dominance?” Tim asked, baffled.

  
“He’s gonna show dominance by wearing our clothes?” Steph asked, looking none too convinced.

  
“He’s done weirder stuff,” came Tim’s answer and she had to admit he was right. Dick shook his head.

  
“I don’t think that’s it. If this were some sort of power play he’d be more vocal about it, making sure we knew he had our stuff. No, this is something else.”

  
The three sat for a second pondering the possible motives Damian could have before a voice behind them answered.

  
“He’s cold.”

  
They all turned to look at Jason, leaning back in his chair with a perfect air of nonchalance, and waited for him to elaborate. Jason rolled his eyes and sat forward. “He’s cold. And he doesn’t want to admit it. I don’t know when you guys last took a trip down to al Ghul HQ, but when I was there it was hot. Like, really hot. And he spent the last ten years down there soaking up the sun. I’m surprised the kid didn’t freeze to death his first night on patrol.”

  
Dick, Tim, and Steph looked at each other. It was so obvious. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of it before, and in fact they felt a little guilty about it. They should have realized that Gotham’s climate would have taken a toll on their little brother and done something about it. Poor kid probably thought it was some sort of weakness to be cold, and that they would hate him for it. No wonder he hadn’t said anything. And no wonder he was taking their clothes. Sensing their remorse, Jason stood up and walked over to the table. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over your mistakes,” he said with a grin, “That’s my job.”

  
“Jay,” Dick sighed, but Jason put up a hand to stop him. He didn’t need his gallows humor analyzed, so he said,

  
“Look, just don’t bring it up to the kid. If he knows you know he’ll freak, think you don’t like him anymore because he’s got a bit of a chill. Just, I don’t know, let him steal the stuff. It'll be better for everybody trust me.” The others mumbled their understanding and nodded. “Great. Now, I’ve gotta bounce; I have a warehouse full of bad guys I need to bust and a sandwich to get from the shop across the street afterwards. Later losers.” And with that he left.

  
The other three, used to Jason’s abrupt comings and goings, sat at the table a little bit longer not really saying anything. Eventually they agreed that Jason was probably right that the best thing to do was to continue on as they had been. And so they did. And if Dick left a couple of sweatshirts behind after a visit, or Tim and Steph put their warmest clothes at the tops of their drawers, or Jason stopped by occasionally to throw some garment at Damian saying he’d shrunk it in the dryer by accident, well that was all just a coincidence.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I don't own DC Comics or anything associated with it. Happy reading!


End file.
